Love Ya
by athousandsmiles
Summary: He thinks it was a mistake not to sleep with her, at least once. Erase the mystery of what it would be like. Then maybe she'd be out of his system. Post season four fic. Now A/U House/Cameron


Author: athousandsmiles

**Title:** Love ya 1/1

**Pairing:** House/Cameron

**Rating:** T

**Warnings/Spoilers:** Minor spoilers for fourth season. Fluff/angst (flangst?)

**Summary:** You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.

**A/N:** Birthday fic for **lostforhouse**, one of the coolest people I know. Happy birthday! And again, this is rerun if you follow my stories at LJ. Set somewhere after season four.

Beta'd by **blueheronz**.

When he steps out of the hospital, she is sitting on the hood of his car, waiting. Her blond hair is glowing in the afternoon light and he thinks of Shakespeare. _"It is the east and Juliet is the sun." _He smirks at himself. He's no Romeo.

He lowers himself beside her and begins tapping his cane against the pavement. "What are you doing here?" he asks, glancing at her.

"I came to say goodbye," she answers, and she's smiling like she actually means it. Like she's actually happy.

"Again?"

She smiles wider. "Yeah. Again. I got a job offer in Atlanta and I've decided to take it. You were right, of course. I'm wasting my skills in the ER."

He just nods, thinking.

"You think it'll stick this time?" he asks finally, his tone mocking her.

"Yes," she says, confidently. "I know you don't need me. You've got Cuddy and 13 and your hookers and..." she trails off. "I guess it took me all this time to realize that you...don't want just one woman. That you don't want a relationship." She laughs a little at herself. "You've changed and I'm just now catching up."

"I haven't changed," he counters. "You changed. You're not seeing me through your sunshine colored glasses anymore."

Laughing again, she moves a bit closer and looks into his eyes. "Maybe that's part of it, but you really have changed, House." She shakes her head as if to clear her thoughts. "Anyway, it doesn't matter."

"You don't love me anymore," he says, and it's not a question.

She smiles again and he realizes that she's comfortable with him, talking about this. He'll never understand her.

"Actually, I do. That's what I came to tell you. I still love you. I always will."

He shifts, uncomfortable, and sorry he brought up the L word. "So what, you expect me to declare my undying love for you now? Beg you to stay?" His tone is harsh and he's angry that once again she's done this to him. Whatever this is.

"No," she says, smiling still. "I know better than that. I'm telling you because..." She shrugs. "Because you don't have to do anything about it. I just thought it would be nice to know that, no matter what, someone out there loves you. And there's nothing you have to do about it. It just is."

As she speaks, she links her arm through his and he admits to himself that he likes when she touches him. Hell, he can even admit that he feels something for her. But she's right, he's not a relationship kind of guy. Not anymore. Not for a long time. He has changed--she's right about that too.

"Anyway, I have to go." She leans toward him and kisses his scruffy cheek before pulling her arm from his and standing. "Bye House," she says, and starts to walk away.

She hasn't made it very far when he stands and calls out to her. When she turns back to him, still smiling, he finds the courage to say it. "I do love you, ya know."

She blinks and smiles some more. "I know," she answers, pressing her fingers to her lips, then extending them toward him. He nods and she walks away. He feels relieved that she understood that was all he could give her. And he feels just the tiniest bit of regret that he can't be what she needs.

House MD

Over the course of the next year, House finds himself changing again. He sleeps with any attractive woman that will spread her legs for him and it never seems enough. Of course, abusing viagra doesn't help. But the problem is, it's never her no matter how many times he imagines that it is. He thinks it was a mistake not to sleep with her, at least once. Erase the mystery of what it would be like. Then maybe she'd be out of his system.

She keeps in touch. Sends him emails with complicated symptoms and challenges him to find the diagnoses as fast as possible. He knows she already knows the answers and he's proud of her. And he likes the challenges. Every email ends with the words, "love ya," and he likes that too. She was right, as loathe as he is to admit it. It's nice to know that someone out there loves you no matter how much you screw up.

But with each passing day, he realizes how much he misses her. He's tired of seeing her face in every woman he meets. He wants the real thing. Problem is, he still doesn't think he can be what she wants. What she needs. He hasn't been monogamous in a long time and he's not sure he's capable of it anymore.

Eventually he stops taking the viagra, because there's no point in getting it up if there's no one you want to screw. He finds his chemically induced grasp at happiness is slipping away. The anti-depressants just don't seem to cut it anymore. A nice Scotch and Vicodin haze get him through the nights now and he knows Wilson and Cuddy are worried. He can't really blame them.

Foreman is all but running the department now. He chooses the cases and sends the team to run tests and get patient histories. The only thing House really does anymore is help with the diagnoses and mock the others. He's still the best there is at both.

Then one day he falls down the stairs during a failed attempt at hiding from Cuddy. He isn't hurt badly, just enough for Cuddy and Wilson to admit him and subject him to a battery of tests he doesn't need. They stand over him and lecture him with furrowed brows, but he just doesn't care. He wasn't trying to hurt himself, but they're acting like he should be on suicide watch and it's annoying.

The next afternoon she shows up while he's helping his team with a differential from his hospital bed. He hasn't seen her in over a year. She looks better than he remembers.

She waits out in the hall until his team disperses to do their thing, then she saunters in and sits on the edge of his bed, taking his hand. He can't help but roll his eyes at her--the whole scenario is so cliche. In fact, he saw this same scene on _General Hospital_ yesterday.

"Hi," she says, smiling that damn smile that's haunted him since she left.

"What are you doing here?" he asks gruffly, pulling his hand away.

"Wilson called me. Seemed to think you needed me." She laughs at this, like the idea is absurd to her, and he vows to beat Wilson with his cane next time he sees him.

"Well I don't. So you can go now."

She smiles even wider and nods. Leaning down to kiss his cheek, she whispers, "Bye House. Love ya." And then he's watching her walk away again and he starts to panic a bit.

"Cameron wait," he calls out, and when she turns back he doesn't know what to say.

Coming back to his side, she asks, "What do you need House?"

He grabs her hand and looks into her eyes and then at his sock clad feet sticking out from beneath the blanket. "You," he answers, finally.

She nods again and her smile disappears. "House...there can't be anyone else."

"I know," he agrees, and really there hasn't been anyone else but her since she left. It's always her. She's all he's wanted.

"Okay," she says, smiling again.

He moves over and makes room for her on the bed and smiles when she curls up beside him.

"You just cost me a hundred bucks," she murmurs against his chest, and it's not at all what he expected her to say. He quirks an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain.

"I bet Wilson that you'd send me away within five minutes. He swore you'd ask me to stay."

He turns to look down at her, surprised. "Technically I did send you away. And then I asked you to stay. Sounds like a tie to me."

"True," she answers, shifting to get more comfortable.

"How certain were you?" he wonders aloud.

"I only packed an overnight bag."

He grins at that, because it's reassuring to know that she won't ever pressure him for something he can't give. Maybe that's why he fell in love with her in the first place. She's the only one who's never tried to change him.

"That's okay," he quips. "You won't be needing clothes for a while anyway."

She laughs again and he realizes that he's happy. She makes him happy. Not in some life is all sunshine and rainbows way, but in a way that is far better than his former drug induced version of happiness. This is something real, and he's determined to hold onto it this time. He never wants to hear another goodbye from her for as long as he lives.

He tugs her a bit closer and presses a kiss to her lips. "Love ya," he says when they pull apart.

"I know," she answers. "Love ya too."


End file.
